Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Hillside.

I miss the fireworks.

I miss the hill, where I'd sit and wait for the fireworks.
I miss the breeze from the wind, blowing my hair.
I miss waiting for the first pop.
I miss the little sparkles on the sky.
I miss the dusts of drawings at the stars.
I miss breathing the smoky air.
I miss the sound of explosions.
I miss the calmness; after the fireworks.

I miss the fireworks.